


End of Me

by theninjaoshawott



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, M/M, will update tags as i progress it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11038764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theninjaoshawott/pseuds/theninjaoshawott
Summary: Reader deals with the grief of the death of their dear friends Ana Amari, Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes after the fall of Overwatch. They're torn apart by the idea of rejoining Overwatch. Their life takes a drastic change as they find two of their supposedly dead friends hunting down the third. Reader tries to come to terms with this predicament and old feelings resurface.





	1. Mourning

**Author's Note:**

> haha, I'm doing another reader x soldier 76. just an FYI, reader is a tank who utilises a hard light gun that can draw barriers and also create light barrier walls that push enemies away. reader is based on a male oc, so if there is any mention of gender, remember that it's a mistake on my hand. please read this as your gender!!! I want this to be inclusive!! reader is about 6,5 and rather bulky, as in they can lift A LOT. physically stronger than Jack. this is gonna be fluff and angsty i guess lmao. reader is super angsty because if your closest and only friends die you're kinda not in a good mental state

It had been years since Overwatch had disbanded. Your heart yearned for its revival, for it to bloom back into what it was. It protected many people, people that would've died in its absence. Yet the public still scorned it. Hidden project this, black ops that, 'Overwatch is a dangerous organisation that only seeks its own profit' were all things that were all said in hushed gossip whenever you went anywhere. A lot of the world was glad to see its death, and the death of the Strike Commander Morrison, a man you had grown fond of. He did questionable things and wasn't always the nicest guy, but he tried his hardest under the goddamn microscope they shoved over him for every second he was in power. He could hardly drink without their being a scandal or some theorist spewing nonsense about how some stupid soda company controls Overwatch due it being in the presence of Morrison. But now you were faced with a decision that had your heart thumping, your fingers trembling over the button on your phone.  
"Accept Recall Request? Y/N"

It took but a few moments before you came to your senses. You lobbed the phone at the wall, crushing it under your foot as tears stung your eyes. Probably just the government baiting you. Yeah. That's all it is. Even if it had been a legitimate call, you'd never be able to make a difference now anyway. You were old. What could some washed out 53-year-old do that a 20-something-year-old couldn't two twice as better. It wouldn't be the same anyway. Not with Jack, Ana and Gabriel dead. You'd heard rumours about Morrison and Reyes but you'd never believe it. Gabe was one of the finest tacticians. He'd plan for everything, he'd never have died in that explosion if he was the one plotting it. But still. They had come to blows. Everyone on the damn team knew just how much of a rift grew between the two men. 

Everyone on the Strike Team had fallen like flies, only Reinhardt and Torbjörn were left. You're thankful Torb hadn't bit the dust. You didn't think you'd have the heart to tell Reinhardt or to pass on the message to his wife and kids. You'd give anything to forget the look on Fareeha's face when you had went with everyone to tell her. It ripped your heart to shreds and then some. Part of you was glad you didn't have a child. You'd never have to spend your final breaths in agony, not because your death was imminent, but the mere thought of your child's face when they were awoken at 2 AM, groggy and rubbing their eyes as Reinhardt stood with one gentle hand on their shoulder.

The only family you'd truly ever had was Overwatch, but even then you'd hardly talked to anyone outside the Strike Team and a few other agents that'd help maintain your gear. You were seen as a parent figure to everyone. You kept everyone safe when Reinhardt wasn't around with your hard-light barrier projections. Young agents would flock to you last of course. Reinhardt always had a sweet and tender expression and aura about him that made him akin to a teddy bear. You were the closest to his size out of your group of friends, towering over them quite a bit, and didn't exactly have the "happy-go-lucky", hearty laugh or demeanour of the man. Few agents approached you and thus, you spent most of your time around the eldest because they'd known better than to judge a book by its cover. They were who you considered family. Ana, Jack, Gabe, Rein and Torb. That's why you came here. To visit the Temple of Anubis as you did every year to pay your respects to Ana. Just as you did at the Swiss headquarters for Jack and Gabriel. Graves meant nothing, their bodies were never found. You'd never had thought in a million years that Ana and Jack and Gabriel would have bit the dust before you had. Yet here you were.

The first night of the visit was always the worst. You'd smell the fruits and the perfumes of the market that reminded you of Ana and the way she'd have taken no shit from anyone and, God, you'd just burst out into tears because poor Ana didn't deserve any of this. She had a beautiful daughter and had unparalleled wisdom beyond even her years. Everything had fallen apart for you in the last few years but you had to keep going. You had to. They may have died but they'd kill you twice if they'd found out you'd let yourself be taken down like they had. So you bit your lip. You kept it all in. You'd never phone Rein or Torb to talk to them about it. You'd never remind Torb that he could very well die too, leaving his kids. And whenever you spoke of any of the three to Rein you'd only get worse hearing his voice strain and crack even despite everything he's seen and endured.

But your heart was aching, maybe just hearing their voices would remind you of the good times. You reached over to your bedside table only to meet the solid wood. Right. You crushed it in a fit of rage. That'd be some explanation to give. "Hey Rein, sorry I didn't phone you when I got there as I initially said! The government tried to bait me into recalling back into Overwatch and I got super mad so stomped it into the ground, SD card and all!". God, you were a mess nowadays. You took a deep breath before trying to get some sleep before you'd head off tomorrow to pay your respects again then buy something for Rein and Torb to help them cope a bit better.


	2. Necropolis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader undertakes a mission, only to find out their target is someone they couldn't bring themselves to harm.

You'd slept in for once in the damn last decade. You rushed, throwing on whatever clothes were at the top of the pile, slipping out of the hotel and heading toward the temple. You powered your way through the crowds lingering around the bazaar and that bought useless trinkets of outdated cartoon characters and old, scentless candles. The place was breathtaking which helped ease the sorrow and grief, albeit only a little. Standing outside in silence, you bowed your head as thoughts flooded you. Thoughts of late nights spent sharing tea and talking about missions with her. Training sessions where even despite your massive size advantage, she had you calling uncle within seconds as you'd never be able to raise a hand against her. The stakeouts you had where you'd almost died had it not been for her taking out the enemy sniper first. You'd stood there for only 10 minutes but the weight of everything seemed to collapse on you and you could hardly walk away. But you did.

Wandering aimlessly had always been a habit of yours, especially when you weren't particularly keen on actually doing anything. For hours you just sauntered in a zombie-like state, not bothering to look where you were going nor who was around you, which for someone such as yourself, was an extremely sloppy and terrible thing to do. You bumped into people every now and then, mumbling a sorry before moving on, none of them brave enough to actually directly call you out on the act. A lot of people were afraid of you. You'd taken up work as a mercenary, mostly just as a bodyguard for important figures. You never looked too much into it. Your morals would interfere with you taking up the job, even if you were desperate for cash. You'd swallow it, letting your pride take a hit by being blissfully ignorant of who hired you and what they'd done. Overwatch disbanded abruptly, and you were one of the unlucky ones to be nearing retiring age, meaning that any jobs that came your way were few and far between. A reputation as a no-nonsense bodyguard with military training that could disarm and kill skilled operatives was a highly desirable asset, fortunately, but it was an asset that mobsters and ringleaders in particular sought. You'd done terrible things you regret. Killing people was rare, and you knew that the people were as bad as those who hired you, but it was a life all the same.

The main purpose of your visit was to pay your respects but as luck would have it, your next client had actually requested a special mission of you. To investigate a nearby Necropolis. Apparently, some of his "agents" were being taken out by some sniper by the codename of "SHRIKE" and they'd tracked them to this point. Obviously, someone of your military background was a prime candidate for a mission such as this. Although you were reluctant, due to a fear of snipers, your bank account was dwindling and you'd have to skip your annual trips to the Temple of Anubis and SWISS HQ if you wanted to eat. That wasn't something you were going to let happen. You had to honour them and respect them. They were your closest allies and friends, you couldn't bare the guilt of dishonouring them like that. You'd have done anything but that.

That night, you slipped on your gear, sheathing your backup handgun in a holster strapped to your inner thigh. You were far from inconspicuous in the gear, Hell, it only brought more attention to you in the town, but it'd prove invaluable in preventing the sniper from killing you. You were given 2 medium-ranked agents to help deal with the sniper if things took a turn for the worse. You doubted you'd need them, you had trained with Ana Amari of all people, the greatest sniper in the world. Sure, you'd never actually avoided her shots, but she told you damn well how to avoid the shots of less competent snipers.

You drew in a deep breath, the cold night air stinging the tips of your fingers and lips. It hadn't taken long to make it to the Necropolis, and you were just preparing to infiltrate the area the sniper was suspected to be inhabiting. You strapped on your night vision goggles and threw up your hood. Bullets grazed past you as you made a dash towards the room. Ducking behind cover, you signalled for the agents to follow. One was taken out on their way there and the other received a bullet to the leg, falling to the ground. With one swift movement, you yanked them behind cover, shushing them as you heard footsteps come to investigate.  
"Throw your weapons aside and come out with your hands up," A gruff, low voice called to you. It felt like something pierced your heart as you remained there, slack-jawed. Was that...?  
"Do it. NOW!" The voice ordered, snapping you back to the situation at hand. You lobbed your gun to the side in clear sight, raising your hands in clear sight, palms exposed. The agent beside you followed suit, although, they almost fell when they limped away from cover.  
You stood perfectly still, hands still up.  
"Get the hell out of here if you know what's good for you," The man barked towards the other agent, his gun jabbing into your chest, "One wrong move and I'll pull the trigger."  
The agent had no other choice but to comply, they were in no state to fight, and with you dead, the mission would be a failure without a doubt. They left the Necropolis, the gun barrel poking into you for every moment of their departure.  
"You seem to be calling the shots. Who the hell hired you and what do they want?!"  
You said nothing.  
"Maybe I didn't make myself clear-" The man kicked with incredible force, your leg giving in instantly as you fell to your knees, looking up at the man- "Who sent you?" He raised the barrel of the gun to your throat.  
You paused for a moment, assessing your options. Obviously, the sniper had a clear visual on you and Intel showed it was highly likely they sniped from where you were facing. They couldn't make a shot with the masked man standing in front of you, the man was in the way. You'd have enough time to get to cover before the sniper could make the shot. In an instant, adrenaline fueling every motion, you slammed your arms down on the rifle, bullets erupting moments too late, meeting your bullet proof vest. You leapt up to your feet and in one motion, headbutted the man. The dazed man stumbled backwards, masking falling apart as you sprinted to cover. A rifle shot echoed throughout the Necropolis followed by the sound of something shattering. Everything had gone black for you. You were tackled to the ground and pinned, handgun placed to your throat. Your vision quickly readjusted as you glanced around, seeing the shattered fragments of your night vision goggles.  
"I said who are you working fo-" The man growled, but his voiced shifted tone mid-sentence. Your eyes met his, and you instantly recognised those baby blues. You could hardly believe it. But you gritted your teeth, all the same, your eyes always tended to play sadistic tricks on you, but this by far would've been the cruellest one yet.  
".... y/n?" His voice was gentle and familiar. The man hesitated as tears pricked your eyes and your voice became shaky. In one hushed whisper, your voice cracked as the name escaped your lips,  
"J-Jack?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HohOHoHOhOHohOHohOHaohoaHOAHOAHaohaOHAOAHOAHAOHAOhaohaoHOAHAOHOAHOAHOo  
> things really pick up next chapter. I decided to add this chapter earlier than I initially planned on since the first chapter is literally only reader being an angsty bean.... so anyway HERES JACK. Just a little note, reader has changed a bit since Jack last saw them, so he didn't recognise them until the goggles were shot off by Ana. Reader recognised Jack's voice but thought their mind was playing tricks on them so tried to downplay the thoughts but eventually recognises Jack's face.


	3. Reconnect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader shares their feelings with Jack over the grief of his death and lashes out verbally due to their emotions.

Tears flooded down your cheeks as the magnitude of the situation struck you. He was alive. It took him a few moments of staring at your crying face before he realised he still had the gun placed to your throat. He shook himself back to reality, putting the gun back in its holster, but he didn't move, still pinning you to the ground. Your head felt fuzzy and dizzy. You were certain the world around you was shaking.  
His voice was low and gentle, "I'm not going to kill you. I won't..."  
You shook your head, closing your eyes as your let your head fall back, "I'm sorry Jack. I have no idea who sent me."  
"Your mission?"  
"Investigate this area for an agent by the name of SHRIKE." You exhaled sharply, making direct eye contact with him, "All I know is that this 'SHRIKE' took out several of the guy's agents and now he wants revenge. If 'SHRIKE' is your ally, I'd strongly suggest they clear out soon. I won't be the last agent he's hired to do his dirty work."  
Jack got up off of you, taking the rest of his mask off, his expression grim with a frown. "I never expected you of all people to turn to this line of work. I thought better of you."  
It stung, like as if he'd drove a blade straight through your stomach. You got up, frowning "I've been through a lot Jack."  
"You don't think we all have? You're killing people for money. I don't want to hear your excuses." He folded his arms, piercing right through you with his judgemental gaze. Part of you knew he was baiting you to argue back and bite so he could chastise you even more. You remained silent.   
"Cat got your tongue?"  
"We thought you were.... _I-I_ thought you were dead. And now I've found you alive years after your supposed death. I attended your funeral. I visit your grave and the HQ every year, Hell, that was the next thing I was going to do after this mission. So forgive me if I can't think of what to say." He was struck by what you said and from the look on his face, he seemed to have just realised you were just now finding out he was still alive.  
"I'm sorry y/n..."  
Tears began to flow again. "Y-you've been alive all these years. A-and you didn't even bother to tell me or even give me a clue?"  
"You know that I couldn't risk telling you and the others I was alive... If word got out." He sighed, "I could count the Overwatch agents who wouldn't shoot me dead with my damn hands. Hell, I'm thinking it's even less now with that stunt you just pulled."  
"H-how could you say that!? D-do you have any idea how much I've cried over you? You were the last person I could lose. Did what we have mean so little to you, that... that you didn't even care enough to tell me you were alive?" You slammed your fist into the wall beside you in anger, closing your eyes as you gritted your teeth " I still haven't even moved on yet and now I've found out your alive."  
He remained silent as you tried to muffle your sobs with your arm.

You had remained there for what seemed like hours before a hooded figure appeared behind Jack, a familiar voice filling your ears.  
"Are you injured Jack?" She turned her head in your direction, expecting you to be bloody and dead on the floor. In an instant, she bounced back, sleep dart aligned with your chest. You couldn't make out her expression behind the mask, but she lowered her arm, taking it off. " y/n ... It's nice to see you again." You stumbled back, your vision getting as dizzy as before.  
"A-Ana...?" The woman quickly came to your side, gently setting her hands on your shoulders as if to stop you from falling over.  
"I'm sorry y/n. I should've told you I was alive."  
For all of the gentleness in her tone and the compassion in her voice, you couldn't let it slide. You gritted your teeth as you closed your eyes in anger. "You don't get to apologise to me. You don't get to apologise for letting me see the broken face of little Fareeha. You don't get to shrug off all my pain and sorrow with a simple apology. You didn't have to sit in silence bottling your feelings up because you knew Rein would burst into tears at the mere mention of your name." Before, you were only upset and mildly angry, but now, you were close to boiling with rage.   
"I'm sorry y/n... I needed time. I spent a lifetime on the battlefield and realised all too late that I'd meet my end there if I didn't change things."  
You shrugged her hands off your shoulders, "I need some time to think. Come to terms with things."  
"y/n... take all the time you need." Her voice was that gentle tone that could make your anger and spite melt away in seconds, but you couldn't give in. You had to let them know how much they hurt you. You walked away, stopping a few metres away before turning your head to the side, glancing back at them.  
"Please tell me... you told little Fareeha you're alive."  
"She was the first I told."

Sat atop the ruins, you gazed down upon the Temple of Anubis. Such a beautiful view still couldn't ease the betrayal and grief swirling around in your heart. You sat there, lost in your thoughts for hours. _How could they not tell you?_ Jack excused it by saying it was "safety" and Ana dismissed it by saying that _she_ needed time. Not like as if you had lost your closest friends only to find them camping out in some ruins by complete chance. 

Part of you wished you hadn't taken on the mission. Perhaps it would've spared you this heartache and overwhelming, crushing feeling of betrayal and distrust. But you knew that you'd come round eventually. You'd welcome them with open arms and share all that you wished you could upon your reflections at their funerals. You were so lost in your own thoughts you never even noticed Ana beside you, hand placed gently atop your own.  
"Dear... Your hand is freezing. I'll go make you a cup of tea." She disappeared, reappearing minutes later with a freshly poured mug of her special tea. You looked at her, eyes still cloudy with tears, but gave her a soft smile. You wiped your eyes quickly before taking the mug, sipping at it.  
"I-I'm sorry... Here I was feeling sorry for myself that you hadn't told me you were alive, instead of focusing on all the things I'd realised I wanted to say when I thought you were dead."  
"It's understandable y/n. You just found out your lover and one of your dearest friends were alive and didn't figure out until just now, years later."  
You'd choked a bit on your tea when you heard her say, 'lover'. "I... I just missed him so much, Ana. I didn't even know it was him until he said my name. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me again. I'm surprised he even recognised me."  
"You know, he's never stopped thinking about you. He'd never say, but I've seen the way he cried to photographs of you." She paused, observing the look on your face before continuing, "He didn't tell you anything because he didn't want to drag you into his mess."  
"I wish he'd at least gave me the option."  
"He knew what you'd pick, y/n. He decided it was best to leave you out of it. None of us would like to lose you."  
"Thanks for talking to me Ana. I really needed it." You took another sip from the tea. "I guess he'll have someone else to watch his back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a biggy chapterr. . . .. biggy .g. g.g hohoho. like 1,300 words. i think thats a decent amount.... anyway. to reiterate.   
> reader is a tank that is based on one of my ocs. uses a hard-light gatling gun that projects barriers and barrier walls to push away enemies. they're like 6'4-6'6 which i think i mentioned last time but anyway, i havent mentioned height thus far when interacting with Jack, so you can imagine him being taller than you if you like. but do keep in mind that reader is physically very strong and has military training, so they could overpower Jack in terms of strength. Only Zarya, Bastion, Roadhog, D.Vas MEKA and Reinhardt could probably overpower them. reader recalls their gear next chapter which i will describe in detail


	4. Unwavering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader reminisces as they collect their old gear, going over previous missions and the degradation of Jack's status. They make their intentions known to Jack and get him to agree to allow them to join him.

It hadn't been long before you left the Necropolis to go gather up your old gear. You always kept it with you on your travels, but only utilised it when absolutely necessary. Although you could use any equipment really, aside from highly specialised guns like sniper rifles, you preferred your old Overwatch equipment. They weren't the pinnacle of technology but it damn well allowed you to swallow a tonne of damage that would otherwise find its way to your teammates. It was a sizeable Gatling gun that utilised hard light technology. It allowed you to fire hard light bullets that although weren't powerful, were in excessive amounts that allowed at least a little damage to be unleashed. You never cared much for the damage it dealt, you much preferred its primary function, which was projecting and maintaining barriers to negate and absorb damage. These barriers could be projected outward towards enemies as well, pushing them against walls and heavily damaging them. They were more versatile than Reinhardt's barrier, however, much more difficult to work around when projected, as Reinhardt's barriers could be recalled, whereas your barriers would continue moving forward and absorb your teammates' bullets as well.

Your Gatling was slung over your shoulder, hanging by your side as you made your way back to the Necropolis. You fidgeted with your gloves, tightening them a tad more. The armour felt foreign as if you hadn't worn it in years despite your excessive use of it in the past few missions. It always held the same weight, the same weight that your Gatling held. The weight of years spent in combat, the weight of the enemies you'd slain, and the weight of fallen comrades you had failed to keep safe. Each mark and crack in the armour gave you vivid flashbacks of how they were acquired, but there was one, in particular, you had always forced yourself to ignore, to overlook whenever possible. No matter how desperately you tried to wash it away, the blood remained, as if a memento of your sheer incompetence and hubris.

It was a brutal mission. You had been assigned to accompany a group of new recruits, having only a few experienced soldiers among your ranks. Talon had been terrorising a small town located in the south of Tibet, slaughtering the citizens to make their cause and power known. Not only had you been assigned a small group, but your numbers were dwindling whereas theirs were only increasing with additional backup. By that point, you had only a medic, a sniper and yourself. The sniper had decided to regroup with you, rushing back to you and the medic. Your backs were against the wall, the sniper didn't have enough range to be effective, the medic was panicked and shaky, and your Gatling was running out of energy. But, things were looking up. What seemed to have been the last wave of agents fell to the ground, no match for the combined prowess of you and your sniper's hand-to-hand. You looked towards your comrades, smiling gently despite the fatigue and wounds that plagued you. It was over. Or so you'd thought. Just as the medic turned to look towards you with a sigh of relief, he was shot through the chest. Blood splattered all over your armour before you could react. In an instant, the medic fell to his knees, hardly able to sputter out an intelligible sentence. Another bullet pierced through him, putting him down. The shock had overtaken you and you were paralysed. Had it not been for your fellow sniper, you were certain that would've been your undoing.

When you had returned you were greeted by a scowling Jack, arms folded as his glare bore right through you. Despite Jack's knack for making others heel, to make them back down, you were more than determined. Your fist clenched, tightening to an uncomfortable degree as you gritted your teeth. Tilting your head towards his, forcing your gaze to lock with his.  
"Jack. I'm coming with you, for whatever you're doing. You and Ana need someone to protect you."  
" y/n, you have no idea what we're doing. You're not coming with us and that's final."  
"You're no longer Strike Commander right? You hold no authority over me. I'll do as I please."  
"Don't you get it? You could die coming with us and you have no damn idea what the hell we're planning to do. Quit screwin' around." He barked at you with the kind of tone that would earn him a fistfight or a slap to the face in any other situation. But the emotion behind it told you all you needed to know. It had almost made you waver. But you couldn't. You wouldn't.  
"I've lost you once. I'll be damned if I let it happen again. There's nothing you can say to make me change my mind. I mean it."  
He continued to glare at you, locking eyes for a few moments. He gave out a dejected sigh before finally submitting. "Always were too stubborn for your own good."

The two of you sat side by side for a few hours, Jack too bitter about losing the argument to make any attempts to converse. Ana had made her way to check on you two, chuckling to herself how it felt almost a little like old times. She promptly disappeared when Jack let out a low growl and frown, appearing back with a tray of biscuits and tea.  
"Here you go, you two." She set the tray down, picking up her own teacup, sipping away at it. Ana had always been a refined and elegant woman, even after her years of sniping and missions, she kept an air of poise and dignity when in domestic settings. But now, her years had only refined her even more. Age wasn't something that was kind to Jack, but he took it well, you suppose. He greyed far earlier than he should've. It was clear it was from the strain and stress of his title of Strike Commander, but it seemed to have slowed down in the last few years. Much of him was still the same as before the explosion, aside from the scars and thinning of his hair, he looked the same man you once knew. Wearing the mask was obviously a necessity. The scars would do little to hide his face from those who'd seek to do him harm. His personality, however, was a stark contrast from when you first met him. You'd never describe him as "starry-eyed" in his youth, he was hopeful, but not an imbecile. He always did what he thought was right, but the strain of public relations left him with little to no choice when it came to some matters. Especially in the final few years of Overwatch, you saw the degradation of his reputation and subsequently, his authority. He could do very little at that point due to the people's lack of faith in him and the disputes between World Leaders and Overwatch. That had left him cold. Overwatch gave him the resources necessary to do the good he wanted to do, but the position also didn't allow him to do what he wanted to. He'd never be able to make the difference he sought to make, nor did he have the ability to act on his own because of it. It was more than tragic. The fact he devoted his life to an organisation that only tied up his hands and made him bear the guilt for his inaction on the crises that plagued the world. You placed your hand atop his. He flinched slightly, debating whether or not to draw his hand away. But you knew that for all his bitterness, he could never reject your affections.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kinda like to imagine that jack's a bitter tsundere post-fall but has gotten to the point he missed reader so much that he honestly cant bring himself to reject their affections even after a dispute. i also like to imagine that ana listened in with a shit-eating grin because honestly, reader is the only person that can chew jack out without jack lashing out verbally in retaliation. ana is the best kind of friend because she'll bring u tea after eavesdropping on ur argument with ur bf bc she knows ur throats probably dry from all the insults u threw at him


	5. Strained Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader let's curiosity overtake them and acts too quickly on it, upsetting Jack. They talk it over with Ana and discover that everything they came to know is now foreign and skewed beyond recognition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i AM SCREAMING. I DIDNT MEAN TO NOT UPLOAD A CHAPTER FOR OVER A MONTH BUT HERE I AM BEING A DUMB EGG. I AM SO SO SORRY FOR ANY OF YOU WHO HAVE ACTUAL INTEREST IN THIS FIC. THE TIME YOU SPEND EVEN JUST READING THIS MEANS THE WORLD TO ME AND IM SO SORRY I'VE BEEN SO LENIENT ON CONTINUING IT. PLEASE ENJOY

The two of you sat there, your hand atop his. You still remained silent but it had been dawning on you that he was real. That this was actually Jack, not some elaborate dream or hallucination that your brain conjured. But part of it being true was bittersweet. It meant he must've offed Gabe before the explosion took place and somehow escaped said explosion. Had Gabe actually set the explosives and then told Jack of his plans? Part of you knew Jack would never abandon his agents to die in an explosion. Everyone thought he'd left Ana for dead, but you knew that she'd probably been too stubborn to evacuate. Jack had told you his communications with her cut off and he couldn't get through to her. Jack loved Ana too much to just leave her for dead. But Overwatch had lost a lot of good agents that day, and one of the most renowned snipers in the world, Ana Amari. She was more than just a sniper, she was like a mother to everyone. She was the "mama bear". No one could harm her family. Yet she was known to be dead. Outsniped by some Talon agent. You could never quite wrap your head around that. 

"...Jack. I don't want to probe too deep and strike a nerve, but..." You hesitated, averting your gaze to the side as his piercing blue eyes looked towards you questioningly. "The fight between you and Gabriel... what happened?"  
Although his face was neutral, merely raising an eyebrow for you to supply the rest of the conversation, it now shifted to an angry scowl. For all your years as his lover, you'd never thought he could muster a face so full of contempt, disbelief and just pure anger. Your heart was in your mouth. Was the nerve you struck too sensitive? Too raw? He removed his hand from under yours, getting up as he shot you another look that seemed more painful than any bullet you'd ever blocked. But when you looked closer at his expression. It was only partially anger and disbelief. He was pained by it. He didn't have the heart to tell you what was to come.  
" Ask Ana if you're that curious." His voice was a low growl that tore right through you.   
"J-Jack, I'm sorry I didn't mean to-" Your voice wavered as you reached out for his hand again.  
He walked away, not bothering to glance back. Great. You'd just found out he was alive and were getting closer to him again and now you just had to let your goddamn curiosity get the better of you. Normally you had tact on par with Ana's, but that had to have been your most pathetic display yet. You slammed your fist into the ground beside you, a small crack forming.

By the time you mustered the motivation to actually try to make amends, Ana had come by, giving you a knowing glance. She gestured for you to follow, leading you to what you presumed was her room.  
"What happened with you two?" Ana started to make some tea, her hands always had to be busy when she held a conversation. Something to keep her digits from going idle and growing less dextrous.  
"I asked him about Gabriel... I... I didn't think it'd still be so raw. It feels like an eternity since I last saw the two of them... I forgot just how little time has actually passed." You shook your head in regret, you could feel yourself growing more and more angry with yourself. Jack was closer to Gabriel than anyone ever had been. He was probably closer to the man than he ever was with you, and you had to go and unearth the wreckage.  
"Gabriel is... not the man he used to be y/n. Jack and I knew him very well... but... I don't even know him anymore." For once, her hand remained still as she spoke. She didn't even reach for a teaspoon.  
"Wait... what do you mean?"  
"He's become a homicidal maniac, y/n. We are going to try and stop him. The terrorist Reaper, that's Gabriel."

 

Those words seemed to cause the room to spin around you. You stumbled backwards, catching yourself on a table as you tried to come to terms with what was just said. Not only was Gabriel still alive, but now he was a goddamn head honcho in some terrorist organisation and committing atrocities under the guise of some murderer you couldn't bear to be on the same goddamn continent as.  
"Ana, please tell me you're joking. Gabriel wasn't an angel but... he'd never... he wouldn't?" You stumbled on your words. How could everything have changed so much in such little time? Everything you seemed to have known had just been shaken beyond recognition. Had you changed just like that too? Jack seemed to be disappointed you'd taken up mercenary work. It must have seemed like déjà vu for him.   
"Gabriel and Jack were close. They have a long history together. That's what has made Jack so distrusting. He thought he knew Gabriel better than anything else in this world and now he's turned into this monster."  
"Reaper is Gabriel, right? Maybe I can talk to him? He's never held anything against me, he has no reason not to hear me out right? Gabriel did what was necessary but he'd never just... kill for the sake of killing, would he?" Your voice must have shaken because you could tell that it pained Ana to hear you speak. You couldn't help but be this emotional lately. You bottled everything up and now everything was twisted upside down. Just a few days ago you were planning on travelling to Switzerland to mourn for Jack and Gabriel, and now you were being told "Hey, you know Gabriel? Yeah, he's actually that maniac Reaper. Jack? He's alive and with your other friend who you came her to mourn for as well!". 

You took a shaky breath as you locked eyes with Ana, "We have to kill him right? Whatever he is... isn't Gabriel anymore. It can't be. I won't let whatever's possessed his body to sully his name or torment Jack anymore."  
Your resolve had taken Ana by surprise, you'd worded it in a way she hadn't expected, but the outcome aligned with hers. Whatever your intentions, your objective was the same. That's all that mattered when it came to making decisions on what to do.  
"Don't let your feelings for Gabriel interfere, y/n. He's not the man you used to know. If you hesitate, he will kill you."  
"Ana... I know that. If I seem like I'm going to hesitate or do something stupid... Please stop him. My emotions need to be kept in check, everything has just been so confusing and stressful and I can't make right nor left of anything at this point. I just need to know you won't let my foolishness endanger you or Jack."  
"I'll bail you out, just like old times." She gave you that warm smile that made her so endearing. Ana was a tough woman, she wasn't some dainty old lady that merely sat around baking cookies or knitting jumpers. She suffered the hardships of war and taken many lives for the sake of her "family's" safety. But despite all the pain and suffering she had seen, she still offered the warmth of such a lady. She felt like home. And you felt safe just knowing she was close.  
"I'll go speak with Jack, iron everything out..." You forced a smile, trying to hide just how emotional she'd just made you.  
"Maybe if you take "kiss and make up" literally, you may have more luck." She let out a chuckle as she poured out her tea.


	6. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader apologizes to Jack, reminiscing about old times. A bit of angst and a bit of history established between reader and JAck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so so so sorry for anyone who has kept up-to-date with this fic. this chapter was especially difficult to write, not because it's "good", but because I hit writer's block for this particular piece. It also doesn't help I just recently started Uni!!! I apologize wholeheartedly to everyone that has this bookmarked, I love you guys and you are the reason I actually decided to do this update in the first place. Anway, I hope you enjoy this!!! Please forgive me, I haven't really written Jack in a while so he may be a bit OoC. Anyway! Hope you're having a nice day!!!

There you stood, outside of Jack's room, hands clasped together nervously as your eyes shifted from side-to-side, trying to muster the courage to tell him how sorry you were to be so insensitive. But you just couldn't. For every battle you faced, you knew relationships were in a whole league of their own when it came to tact and patience. You loved him with every fibre of your being but wording it came out cliché and cheesy and you just couldn't convey what your true feelings were. Sure, you often had disagreements with friends, but the fact you still love and spend time with each other speaks volumes about the strength of those bonds. But even then, Gabriel and Jack were as close as could be and look where they ended up.  
You drew in a sharp breath, the cold air stinging your lungs.  
"Jack, can I... can I come in?"  
He gave a low grunt that although wasn't inviting, you had always taken it as a "sure" or a conceding gesture. You made your way into the room, mentally preparing an essay on all the things you wanted to say. How you were sorry for striking a nerve so raw, that you were sorry for reminding him of his tragic friendship, for not allowing him to tell you in his own time, and that you were sorry you weren't there to stop it. It wasn't easy to not crumble and turn into a blubbering mess, but you knew you had to pour your heart into it, to make sure he knew the magnitude of your emotions.  
"Jack.. I... I'm sorry. It wasn't-" You paused momentarily, putting emphasis on the word " _-isn't,_ my place to ask what happened. I just hope you can forgive me for hurting you like that."  
His hands clasped around his mask, taking it off as he let out a dejected sigh, "I'm not mad at you. Well, I was. But... Gabe did a lot of shit and I should've seen it coming. I only saw it when it was too late. That's why I was mad. I could've done something to stop... everything. All I ever did was tear everything apart."  
"Jack no..." You made your way over to him, hand placed atop his, your eyes cloudy again, "It's not your fault. Gabe did some questionable things and you defended him as any friend would. I-it's not your fault everything fell apart. I-I..." You faltered, taking a breath before swallowing back your hesitation. "I didn't... _don't_ blame you for a second for what happened. There was nothing you could've done. Please, Jack, don't think for a moment we don't acknowledge the pressure you were put under."  
"It's just hard, y/n. Sometimes I think... maybe we'd have all been better off if Overwatch didn't exist. I did everything I could but it still wasn't enough."  
You weren't sure what to say, you wanted to tell him that sometimes giving everything you can doesn't guarantee everything will work out in the end. You wanted to tell him that you were proud of how much he had done, for all the lives he'd saved. But you also wanted to tell him to stop feeling sorry for himself. You wanted to scream at him 'This sure as hell isn't the Jack I fell in love with!', to tell him that he's so much more than some washed up soldier past his prime. But you knew you couldn't. It wasn't fair. He'd been through too much, seen more than his fair share of death and grief. All you did was sit down beside him.

 

Words sometimes weren't enough to convey your feelings, and sometimes, actions weren't either. But you had no other idea what to do. So you just sat beside him, hoping Ana would eventually come in to segue the topic into something else or to make Jack forget about the conversation. You sure as hell weren't ready for this conversation, you were still numb from the pain of losing them both, and part of you still felt like it was some sort of cruel dream. As if at any moment, you'd be snatched up from this reality and thrust back into the despair of having lost them both. For a moment, you felt like as if that were about to happen, that his image would fade and you'd just be left in the cold embrace of the night as you whispered to yourself all the things you'd wished you'd said. You squeezed his hand, trying to reassure yourself that he was real, that this wasn't a dream. But it wasn't easy convincing yourself to disregard the 'reality' you endured these last few years. You were tired and exhausted from the wave of emotions that hit you and just everything that was going on. You just wanted to go to bed and clasp your hands in his and just to wake up to everything being the way it was. Back in the "good old days" when your biggest worry was a battlefield and not this entire ordeal of 'Gabe's turned into a terrorist' and 'Overwatch activity is illegal'. Reminiscing about the "good old days" had always left you in tears as you still struggled to grasp reality. But maybe it'd be cathartic now, for both you and Jack.

"Remember the first time we met?" The question itself wasn't that difficult to answer, of course, he did. Overwatch was how you met, and maybe recalling that would make him feel a tad better, or be a bit less bitter and upset. Or, so you hoped.  
"When you thought I was being serious when I asked for you to grab me a bagel and a coffee?" Hearing him chuckle made your heart flutter and you could almost feel your face getting redder.  
"I was a bit too eager to please _you_ in particular." You laughed alongside him, "I'm not sure why I took you so seriously. I didn't expect someone like you would be sarcastic or joke."  
"You calling me sardonic?"  
"Your middle name is Sardonic, old man." Both of you burst out laughing, Jack slapped his knee. It was nice, laughing like old times, just, enjoying each other's company. It almost felt like as if the weight of your previous conversations had been lifted, and you were back at base, sharing the couch, back before he was so swamped with paperwork that he didn't pass out at his desk. That's what you longed for the most in your grieving. Just to have his presence. That's all you wished for, was just to feel him be there and to know that you had something.

Most of the time, when you thought back on Overwatch, you thought about the moments you shared with him, and Ana, and Rein, and even Torb. But the one moment you'll never forget is your first sunrise at Watchpoint: Gibraltar. Jack wasn't even aware of your feelings at that time, it must've seemed awkward the way you asked him to go watch it with you. He wasn't as swamped with work as he was in the later years, so you had no qualm waking him up at God-knows-what hour of the morning. It was at that point you realized exactly what you were fighting to preserve. The world had a lot of ugly smears on it, but it was beautiful, and your life was to be shared with others.  
"Hey Jack, you remember Gibraltar?"  
"Lots of memories of that place. One of the few perks of being Strike Commander was getting to visit that place. It was... nice."  
"You remember our first sunrise there?" You chuckled a bit, "Were you unaware that me asking you to watch it with me was flirting, or did you just take it as platonic?" You couldn't help but smile, remembering the drowsy-eyed Morrison stumbling along in the darkness of the base, trailed along by you. It wasn't that he couldn't wake up at early hours of the morning, he grew up on a farm. But he was suffering from jet-lag, whereas you had been stationed at the nearby Swiss HQ and had only just transferred to Gibraltar.  
"Didn't think too much of it, I was too tired to. But it was one of the highlights of my time spent there."  
"I'm glad..."


End file.
